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I love staying at home curled up on my loveseat and reading rom-coms, drinking warm coffee in my favourite mug, listening to music, and spending hours on Netflix.
I don't love Monday mornings, having to get up early for work, or any form of exercise, especially sport.
Don't get me wrong, I love my job, but sometimes the effort of getting out of bed on a Monday is too tiring to even imagine. I have to begin the cycle of waiting for Friday again and enjoying the comfort of the weekend.
Especially since I decided that I needed to be more active and forced myself to go to the gym or exercise 4 days a week as my new year resolution.
After an hour of running, I waited in line for my turn to order, dressed in my gym clothes with a phone in my hand connected to my AirPods. Exhausted, I was hoping that this line would move faster, and finally after what felt like hours of waiting, I was at the front.
I finished giving the cashier my order and swiped my card, then took a seat at one of the chairs that faced the window. The bustling streets of New York had never failed to excite me, ever since I had first moved in to study at Columbia and stayed to start my career.
My eyes wandered to the people walking by, busy with their own lives. I made up stories for each person I saw. The man in a suit running with his briefcase in hand and his tie loosened was late for his first interview, he'd just graduated and was thrown headfirst into reality and out of his parents safe arms.
The woman in with headphones covering her ears, lost in music and the young man that had just stopped her from walking straight in front of a moving car would eventually fall in love. He would bring her flowers, tulips, which were her favourite kind, take her to her favourite restaurant and kiss her goodnight like a gentleman on their first date.
The shadow of someone on my right distracted me from my thoughts and I turned to face them. A smile instantly lit up my face as I saw Margret, the owner of this cafe.
"Hey Sienna," She said as she took a seat next to me, her mouth curved in a sweet smile and her grey curls which rested on her shoulders. Her bright blue eyes filled with warmth always reminded me of clear skies in summer when I used to race across beaches with my friends.
Her features were a complete opposite to mine. My dark hair and slightly pale skin and hazel eyes contrasted her completely. And unlike her small frame, I was slightly taller than average.
Margret had always been my favorite old person. She could make even the most grumpy person fall in love, like her husband who I swear I've never seen smile. Though I wasn't related by blood to her, I considered her my family, a grandmother I never had. Her cheerful and loving personality had never failed to make me smile, even on my worst days.
"Hey Margret, how are you doing?" I reply, a similar smile lighting up my face.
"I'm doing alright dear, though it's such a bore for me nowadays. The only fun I ever get is listening in on the customers' conversations. I just heard a woman on the phone yelling at her husband for having an affair with her best friend," she chuckles.
